


Healing You

by LadyCookieCupcake



Category: Marvel - Age of Ultron, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Actual story was just something I wrote and so I joined the smut to it, Bonus Ending, Cross-Posted on Quotev, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Fluff, Hugging and Kissing, Originally Posted on deviantART, Pietro comes to Reader when injured, Reader has a crush on Pietro (denies it), Reader is the daughter of Tony Stark, Romance, Smut, Smut was a request from deviantART, Two-Parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:51:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6752806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCookieCupcake/pseuds/LadyCookieCupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were all ready for bed when there's a knock at the door, and who would've guessed it to be your crush, your injured crush.</p><p>aka the one where the Author wanted to write a story for the requested smut story(bonus ending)....I dunno.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The knock came at night, just as you were about to turn off the light in the living room. With your hand lightly touching the switch, you turned a little, looking over your shoulder at your front door. You weren't expecting anyone, especially not  _this_  late. It was midnight, after all, and you didn't make it a habit of picking acquaintances out of late-night sleepers; so you were confused, and a little startled.

Leaving the light on - turning it off would gain more unwanted attention than leaving it on would, since the person could probably see the light underneath the door -, you slowly walked to a drawer, quietly opening it and picking up the gun your father had given you. Your father,  _the_  Tony Stark, was as protective as one would expect of you, his beloved - and only - daughter. He didn't like the idea of you living on your own, especially  
when the flat itself was quite far away from him, but he'd learned already you refused to give the idea of moving out up. So, by the time you finally did decide to move, he had already reluctantly taught you the basics of using a gun, which he said would give you 'enough time to run and call for help if need be'.

So, when the knock came, your first thought was the gun, the second thought calling your father, but the stubborn side of you ('the Stark part', your father would often joke) refused to call for help, not before you checked who it was first. Slowly, forgetting the drawer, you walked over to the door, the gun held tightly in your white-knuckled grip. You were careful to step beside and over the creaky floorboards as you made your way over.

When you were finally near the door, you quietly leaned up on your tiptoes and peaked through the tiny window to the other side, and then you saw it - a young man with blonde hair and dark roots, was standing there, one hand pressed firmly against his side as his left leg, the side of which he was holding, was lifted a little, as if it hurt to even lay it on the floor. Instantly you relaxed, only to freeze up again when you saw the extent of his injuries, instantly taking notice of the blood and the bruises forming on his face. It was hard to miss the dark bruises contrasting greatly with the pale of his skin.

Sliding the gun in the pocket of your robe, making sure it was suitably covered, you unlocked the three locks you'd placed on them (you can never be too careful) and opened the door. Almost as if he had been leaning on it (maybe he had been?), Pietro was leaning forward, falling further down and into your waiting arms. You crashed onto the ground as you just barely caught him, and you watched as his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed.

You weren't sure what to do. Did you call for help, but who? Did you tend to his wounds, but how? You couldn't move without disturbing him, and that was the last thing you wanted to do, but you couldn't just sit there. You looked around, wondering if your phone was anywhere close by. It wasn't, and neither was anything else that could have been of use. Huffing, you looked down at Pietro and decided that yes, the only way to help him was to move him.

 

"Pietro." You said, gently shaking him but he didn't seem to wake. His eyes were closed and his chest was just barely lifting, but luckily, upon opening his mouth and feeling the warm breath caress your skin, you were glad to know he was still alive. But not for long if I don't get moving. You weren't getting his attention any time soon, so you went along with the plan, carefully shifting until you were on your knees. Pietro was a groaning mess in your arms but you tried to ignore it (it was hard though, after all, it's not something a person wants to see, their crush in pain and bleeding in their arms).

 

Carefully and slowly, you lifted him up, standing up as you did so. Once you were standing, you blew a strand of hair out of your eye (only to have it fly back into its original place) and slowly maneuvered your way over to the sofa. You dragged him, trying to whisper soothing words to cease his pained groans, and when you were near the sofa, you gently placed him on it, making sure his head was propped up comfortably and his legs were dangling over the arm of the sofa.

 

You took a couple of seconds to note how tall he was (and then you had to push away the thought of ' _well, what else is big? Winkwink_ '), before racing to your kitchen. It wasn't small nor was it big, it was just the right size for a single person. However, in the dark, it didn't matter because in the dark, you couldn't see and therefore you kept walking into everything. You wondered why you hadn't turned the light on, but then a loud pained grown called out from your living room and all thoughts of light and dark were gone.

 

Almost as if you were running on auto, you walked around the dinning table, didn't trip over the chairs and managed to open the cabinet door without hitting yourself in the face. You thought of it all as a win-win ad your hand flew in the direction you knew the first aid kit was in, before dragging it out. Other things fell out as you did so, but with a mere wince, you decided you'd clean them up later on.

 

"(Y-Y/N), a-are-?" Pietro tried to say, only for a hacking cough to interrupt him, and you raced your way back to him, the first aid kit and the phone (which you had grabbed upon passing it) clenched tightly in your hand. Dropping to kneel beside him, you quickly opened the box and then turned to the bloodied shirt. You used all your strength to rip at the fabric but surprisingly it wasn't that hard. You ripped it until the wound was showing- and dear lord, you wished you hadn't now.

That- that was a lot of blood and guts? There was guts? There shouldn't be guts! You couldn't stop yourself from turning and heaving, a fist flying to your mouth to prevent anything from coming out.  _Oh god, oh god, oh god! What am I going to do? I don't know how to dress wounds like that! I've only treated little papercut-like wounds, not 'spill your guts all over my bloody-literally-carpet' wounds!_  Despite everything in you telling you to not, you looked up- and then actually threw up this time, turning your head and letting everything come out.  _Oh god, oh god..._

You were just so glad Pietro was unconscious- wait, no, you weren't glad about that! You groaned and lifted your hand to wipe your mouth with it. You grimaced in disgust but you had no choice, you had no tissue near enough. Grabbing your phone, you numbly scrolled down your list of contacts, stopped at the one you wanted and then clicked it.

Two rings later, your father was on the phone, his voice showing how tired he obviously was but still alert enough for his daughter. "Honey? What's wrong? Why have you called this time? What have you done?" He asked, and you waited, huffing only at the last question. Why must you have done something to be calling at this time? Maybe you just wanted to talk to somebody. Well, right now, you wanted help - as much as you hated to admit that - but that's beside the point.

"Dad, Pietro came to my door and he's injured and bleeding and I think there's guts- no, wait, there are definitely guts and I am seriously going to throw up (well, I've already thrown up) and I- well, I-... I need you help." You finished, quietly muttering the last bit. "I'm sorry, what? I didn't here that last bit." Your dad heard it loud and clear, he just wanted to be annoying. "Dad." You warned and a breathy chuckle, which reminded you of how you had probably woke him up, could be heard through the phone. "Alright. I'll be there soon." He said causally, as if Pietro wasn't dying on your sofa.

"Well, don't sound too panicked." You said sarcastically before muttering a 'bye' and hanging up. Then you looked down, regretted it, heaved, took a couple of deep breaths, and carefully stood up. You had a horrible mess to clear up, and so you did, carefully stepping over it. You grabbed bunches of tissue before clearing up your mess, quickly throwing the tissues away. As you worked, you refused to look at Pietro, already knowing he was sweaty and pained and there was blood and guts and-. Oh god... **.**

Once the remains of your food was gone, you picked up the first aid kit and placed it on the table, so nobody would trip over it. Then you knelt beside Pietro again and waited. You weren't sure how long it was until you heard the knock, but throughout that time, you had decided to - hesitantly - hold Pietro's hand, grip clenching tighter with each second. You were nervous for him and so very, very worried.

Yet your heart still fluttered at the mere contact you had with him. He was bleeding and just inches away from death and yet here you were, acting like some school girl sitting near her crush. You hated this, you hated how he made you feel, and he didn't even know it. He acted as though you were just acquaintances, but then again, you had no reason to be anything else. Every time he appeared, you would disappear, no matter what you may have been doing beforehand, and when he tried to talk to you, you would just freeze and stare wide-eyed up at him.

You'd probably freaked him out, you wouldn't be surprised. You sighed. Why did you have to have a crush on this dude? Why couldn't you have fallen in love with-...? Fallen in love...? But you weren't in love. It was just a crush, just a mere, silly infatuation, you weren't in...weren't in love....Maybe...?

A sudden knock at the window had you startling, almost jumping out of your skin, and you turned, remembering your father had a flying suit which meant heights meant nothing to him.

You suddenly became aware of Pietro groaning in pain. Oh, so he'd woken up while you were lost in your denial, great. He didn't seem fully aware of his surroundings, however, which meant he must have only just woken up. You gave his hand a little squeeze before standing up, letting go of his hand (you refused to admit how reluctant you were about it) and walking over to the window.

Opening the window, you watched as your father climbed in, undoing his helmet as he did so. He walked over to Pietro, gave him a once over and then sighed. "He told me he was alright." He said as he bent down, picking the necessary equipment for bandaging up wounds from the first aid kit. "What are you going on about?" You asked. You were aware of a mission your father had been on, but what did it have to do with Pietro? Was he working with him, and since when?

"You know that mission I was assigned to? The one where I had to collect some vials? Well, Mr. Maximoff here," He paused, making sure to glare at the young man, "- decided he wanted to tag along, despite my protests. I hadn't expected him or the guards swarming in, so it's not my fault he got shot!" Your father quickly explained as he worked efficiently, as always making sure the blame was not on him. You huffed. It wasn't, not really. He hadn't known Pietro was even there until it was too late, which made you wonder why Pietro decided not telling anyone was a good idea...and then you remembered this was Pietro Maximoff you were talking about, which meant nothing he ever said or did was a 'good idea'.

You huffed, pacing back and forth a little as you crossed your arms. Worrying your bottom lip, you couldn't help but worry with each second. He seemed fine, despite the groaning and his eyes becoming more droopy. You just worried for him...which you blamed on this crush (crush! Not love!)

Finally, with a sigh, Tony Stark moved back. "Is he going to be okay?" You asked, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw your father nod. "Yes, he should be fine. All he will need now is rest. Make sure he gets that, will you (Y/N)?" Your father asked, tired, and you nodded, suddenly feeling guilty you had to call him. If you had another choice, you wouldn't have called him but... You sighed quietly and smiled up at him weakly, leaning up to kiss him on the forehead. "Thank you, dad. You should probably go home and get some rest too. Sorry for calling you."

He shook his head, a stern look in his eyes as he said, "No. Don't apologise. I want you to call me if you need me, even if it is just to vent to about boys- wait, no, please don't. If you need to do that, call Steve. He's the man to vent to about boys, alright?" He gave you a pointed look and you nodded, chuckling. "Alright, dad. Now go home." He nodded, sure you wouldn't call him about boys, and kissed you on the top of your head before setting his helmet back over his face and then, with one leap out of the window, he was gone.

Closing and locking the window once again, you sighed and looked over your shoulder to see a fast-asleep Pietro. He looked so peaceful, well, more peaceful than when you had seen him earlier. His torso was now cleaned and bandaged, though he was shirtless- no, don't blush! You looked away. You could not believe you were having such sinful thoughts about an injured man.

_Sleep! I-I need sleep, yes...sleep._

So, quickly wrapping Pietro up in two blankets gently and securely as possible, you made sure he was alright and comfortable before walking off to your room- or at least you would have, were it not for the hand suddenly gripping yours. You jumped and turned, glancing downwards to see an awake Pietro. Well, his eyes were open and he was looking at you, but he didn't seem to be  _there_.

He just stared at you, and after a couple of minutes, you began to get incredibly nervous. What is he doing? What was he going to do? How would you calm him so he doesn't injure himself even more, if he did decide he wanted to panic and freak out? You weren't trained in soothing injured speed runners!

then, suddenly, Pietro smiled and pulled you down with surprising strength for one completely obvious to his surroundings. You gasped in surprise as you hit his chest, and you tried to scramble off of him, trying to be careful but quick because of his wounds. He refused to let you go, however, and instead wrapped an arm around your waist, hugging you closer. He snuggled his face into your hair, and you could've sworn he breathed in, but you couldn't really tell, your own face squashed against his chest.

"Pietro, let me go." You tried to say but it was only muffled by his chest. You struggled against him, trying so very much to be gentle but getting more and more impatient. You wanted to sleep, in your bed! He also needed sleep and rest and not somebody laying on his wounds.

Though this was not what you expected when you pictured laying on his chest, trying to lift yourself up carefully so you didn't hurt him or catch his wounds. After a while of struggling, you finally decided to give up. He was strong, even when injured. You were not (at least, not compared to him...damn his strength!)

You sighed and carefully laid an arm around his torso, mindful of the wounds. This would be the first and last time you ever got to be this close to him, let alone have the chance to hug him. So you were going to take it and hug him with all you had.

Pietro seemed to smile when you relaxed, seemingly happy that you were hugging back, and soon you could feel him relax until the softest snore possible could be heard. His arm went slack and slowly began to fall off of you, but despite it, you stayed. In fact, you shifted into a move comfortable position before carefully moving it back over you, so you could sort of hug the arm. It was odd, but again it was the only time you'll ever get to be this close to him, you were going to take it!

So, you let your head fall back, gently laying it onto his chest, and closed your eyes. Slowly you felt yourself slip away until you were lost in dreamland, completely unaware of the way his arm tightened ever-so-slightly around you and the slight quirk of his lips.

•

When you woke up the next day, you were on the sofa, a warm blanket wrapped around you. You waited for a couple of minutes, letting yourself wake up before taking in your surroundings. You could've sworn you had been on the floor, sitting beside the sofa not sitting on it.

You looked around, and instantly noticed Pietro, sitting there on your armchair sipping at a drink and winding every once in a while. When you looked at him, his eyes went wide, his mouth an inch from the mug, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. After a little bit of inspecting, you realised he must have been watching you sleep, to which you blushed.

_I'm not sure what to feel about that, well, other than slightly creeped out,_  you wondered as you slowly sat up, leaning against the back of the sofa and laying your hands in your lap.

You were both silent, unsure of what to say or do. Did he even remember what had happened last night? Oh goodness, what did he think when he woke up, his arm wrapped around you who was hugging it? You were hugging his arm while he was asleep! You wouldn't be surprised if that freaked him out more than him staring did to you.  _I suppose I should really start apologising for clinging to him._

As you were thinking, you didnt realise how you were biting your lip until a soft thumb was caressed gently over it. You startled backwards, gasping as you stared wide-eyed at him. Why? Why was he there? Why'd he use his speed to race over to you? What did you do?

As you moved back, he followed, eyes still trained on your lip as he gently caressed it. You froze and let him carry on his inspection. What was he doing? What was he looking at? It seemed like forever until he stopped, and when he did, you couldn't help but sigh in relief- which quickly turned into a shocked gasp when his lips suddenly captured yours.

Your mind went blank, your heart sped up, and your eyes went wide. You didn't know what to do, but luckily Pietro seemed to know what to do, since he was moving his lips to kiss you deeply. Hesitantly, you kissed back, moving your lips awkwardly. It was only as the kiss got deeper, did you gain the confidence to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer in. He sat beside you and you climbed into his lap, not breaking the hug or the kiss.

Things were getting heated, but you didn't care. You broke the kiss to start trailing down from his jaw to the crook that connected his neck and his shoulder. His back arched as you sucked at a certain spot- and then he hissed. You quickly pulled away to look at him and you instantly noticed the wince, and then you remembered the wounds.

Eyes wide, you exclaimed "Oh my god! I'm so sorry. I forgot about your wounds, I wouldn't have carried this on if-." Pietro stopped you with a kiss, and then pulling away, he chuckled at the dreamy look on your face. "It's fine, really, (Y/N). If anyone's at fault, it's me for starting it. Though, that's not to say I didn't like it." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and you blushed. You playfully glared and stuck your tongue out.

"So, um," You hesitated. Should you ask? Well, you needed to know but what if that was just a random kiss? Maybe he's delirious from the wounds! Well, you  _did_  really need to know, and if it was just a kiss, then it was just a kiss. At least you'll know. "Um, so I was wondering, um, what- ugh, what I'm trying to say, well, ask, um-." He kissed you, stopping you once again, and you sighed. Although the kisses were alright, you really needed to ask him the question.

"Yes." He said simply, and you gave him a confused look. "Yes, what?" Pietro smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in carefully. "Yes, you are my girlfriend." You couldn't help it; your mouth fell open and you gaped. You were excited; you were his girlfriend. You were Pietro Maximoff's girlfriend, and god, that made you so very happy...and yet the Stark side of you appeared.

Closing your mouth, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin a little, playfully. "But what if I don't want to be your girlfriend?" He chuckled and leaned in carefully, wincing a little but still pecked you on the lips. "Every girl wants to be my girlfriend." He cheekily smirked, and you couldn't help, you smirked and kissed him.

"You cheeky so-and-so." You muttered against his lips, and Pietro smirked. "You love me really."

"Yes, I do."


	2. Bonus Endng (SMUT)

You couldn't believe it! You were now officially Pietro's girlfriend, and it all began with him coming to your flat, injured.  _Well, that's one way to get a boyfriend,_  you thought sarcastically, half-listening to the TV, half-thinking. Some show was on, though you weren't sure what was going on, your mind clouded with thoughts about earlier on.

After Pietro announced you were now his girlfriend, you demanded he take a shower and then you'd dress his wounds. He was still currently in the shower, though you were sure he was taking a little longer than necessary.  _Maybe I should go check on him._  He could be unconscious for all you know, or maybe it was hard to shower, what with the wounds. You bit your bottom lip, worrying it to the point of nearly bleeding, and then you decided.

Standing up, you laid the TV remote beside you and stood up, walking out of the living room and to the bathroom. Making sure to knock loud enough for him to hear you, you waited for a response, and when none came, you called out, "Pietro!"

Still, nothing came, and worried, you hurriedly opened the door- only to be met with an unexpected sight, though one that wasn't unpleasant. He was standing there, in the shower, leaning against the wall. His back was arched slightly, eyes screwed shut and mouth parted a little in a silent gasp. One hand was clenched tightly in a fist, the arm thrown across his forehead, while the other hand worked his hardened length.

Upon hearing the door open, his eyes snapped open, and he looked over at you, wide and startled, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have been- and in a way, he had been. Your mouth gaped open, closed, gaped open, and then closed again, deciding to keep it shut this time, frightened to find out what other noises may come out instead of words.

You were unsure of what to do though. Should you apologise? You  _had_  walked in a private moment of his, but in all fairness to yourself, you hadn't known this was a private moment. You hadn't expected him to be doing such a thing, and in your own bathroom, in your shower nonetheless. So...

"U-umm," You squeaked out, coughed and then tried again, "I'm going to- I'm just gonna, um, leave....Bye." Then you walked out, quickly shutting the door behind you. You felt hot and bothered suddenly, the image of him working himself still fresh in your mind, and oh god! He was injured, you should not be having such thoughts!  _Seriously, I did not agree to_ this _!_  


**  
***

  
You sat there, on your bed, the covers flown over you, pressed tightly into your sides. Your eyes stared wide up at the ceiling above you. The image of Pietro, wet and naked,  _just wouldn't leave your head_ , and you were so close to screaming.  _I just want to sleep, is that so much to ask for?_  


 

The glisten of pale skin, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, mouth opened for a silent gasp, tight-muscled body under the wet droplets-. Alright then, apparently it  _is_ too much to ask for. You huffed and turned on your side, letting your arm fall onto the other side. You dreaded closing your eyes, the image popping up the second you did so, but you needed sleep. You had to get up early tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted, and needed, was to fall asleep every couple of minutes because you never slept the night before.

So, you closed your eyes, and tried to focus on something else; you thought about what you were going to do tomorrow, about the people you may be meeting, focusing a little on their faces, their voices, and slowly, you felt yourself relax, your muscles becoming less tense and your eyes becoming more heavy. You were just about to sleep... and then- "(Y/N)? You awake?"

Your eyes snapped open, and you turned half-way, body twisting a little to look, and then you sat up when you saw the figure was there. Instantly you were met with the limping figure of Pietro, who didn't bother waiting for a reply, walking over to you anyway. Sitting down on the bed by your feet, he was silent, to which you were as well. You weren't sure what to say, or what he wanted, and after that shower incident - and oh look, there's the image you've been trying to ignore -, everything was just awkward. You knew seeing his naked body shouldn't be something odd or awkward; after all you two were now dating, it's just...

Subconsciously, you bit your lip, eyes downcast into your lap. You were unaware of Pietro looking up, and therefore unaware of the way his eyes seemed to zoom into your bitten lip. You only realised he was even looking at you when you looked up, and noticed how close his sparkling eyes actually was. You startled backwards, not expecting, only to hit the headboard. He followed you until he was leaning over you, his arms holding himself up on either side of you, his face mere inches from your own.

Your breath hitched and you felt the sudden urge to lean forward and capture his lips with yours. Your eyes flew down to his lips, memorised by the way they moved- wait, they were moving closer! You opened your mouth but you weren't given the chance to speak, his lips pausing any words from coming out, (though you weren't sure what you would've said if you had been given the chance).

His lips moved and soon, as if possessed, you moved yours. Your hands moved to his shoulders, hesitant but surprisingly eager as the kiss got more heated, and wrapped your arms around his neck. You shifted until you were on your knees, the covers sliding off, and you carefully brought him closer, mindful of his wounds you had dressed the second he'd come out of the shower, (after which you'd raced to your room and never left it since).

As you carefully pushed him down on the other side of the bed, you didn't break contact from the kiss, biting his lip for access which he happily gave. You slipped your tongue in easily, exploring every inch of his mouth, and carefully straddled his waist. The kiss got hotter and hotter with each passing second, and you slowly began to rock your lower half into his, feeling yourself get a little wet with each rock.

You could feel the fabric of your pajamas touching, and it annoyed you. You so desperately wanted him to be naked, to have him inside of you. You'd dreamed of this to first moment you met him, and despite the guilt you felt for fantasizing about him whenever you pleasured yourself, you couldn't help but wish for it, and now it was happening and god, was it going great. The only trouble being, the clothes.

Pietro suddenly rocked upwards, pressing his hardened dick into your pussy, your knickers the only thing preventing him from slipping in. You growled, both in lust and annoyance at the prevention, and reluctantly pulled away. You quickly slid off of him, standing up to tug your night clothes off. Once you finished, you watched as Pietro followed suit, tugging off his bloodied jeans. As he reached his top, he had to pause, obviously trying to stop the wince coming but having no luck.

You paused as well. "You know, we don't have to do this now. Actually, we really shouldn't do this now. You're injured and-," You spoke, quickly talking yourself out of this. Why did you pounce on him like that anyway? He's injured and no matter what he may say or do, he couldn't prove to you otherwise. He needed the rest, you could always do this another day...if he wanted to. Hating yourself for rushing into it, you bent down to pick your pyjamas back up, only to be stopped by Pietro, who dragged you back on top of him. He winced a little but didn't let the pain stop him from saying, "No. I want this. Now. Right now, with you." Then he sat up and kissed you again- or tried to, were it not for you moving back a little.

"No! You're injured! You need-!" You tried to get out, to get through into his head, but he weren't having none of it. Pushing you down beside him, he quickly straddled your hips, intertwining his legs with yours to prevent any escaping. You huffed, struggling to get out of his strength. You hated this! He needed rest! Why won't he lis-? Unexpectedly, he rocked into you, thrusting his pelvis into your pussy, but this time there was no fabric to stop him, and quickly, he slipped into you. You weren't prepared though, so when the pain came, the rough thrust into your slightly-dry pussy, you couldn't help but cry out.

Pietro paused, looking up at you in worry. "Are you alright?" He asked panicky, though you couldn't help but notice his voice had gone a couple octaves lower, as if he were trying to prevent himself from thrusting. You could tell he was on the edge, he needed this...and despite how much you kept saying this wasn't the right time, you needed this, you wanted this. So, biting your bottom lip, you took a few seconds to ease down the pain- and then you nodded.

The man didn't waste any time, instantly thrusting inwards. He kept a steady pace, despite the obvious urge to go faster, and for that you were glad because although the pleasure was quickly replacing it, the pain was still there, albeit only a little bit now. You leaned up, kissing him on the lips as he kept at his steady thrusts, and when you felt the pleasure fully replace the pain, you gently nipped at his bottom lip. He allowed you access, and you easily slipped your tongue through, exploring his mouth as you slowly thrust upwards yourself...

And it was as if the gates had finally opened, because with just one thrust from yourself, he was picking up his pace until you were overwhelmed. You wrapped your legs around him, securing him in place, and brought him closer, which in turn made his dick go in deeper. You moaned loudly, not caring about the volume and clenched your eyes shut. As screams of pleasure and curses came forth, you could feel yourself quickly near the edge, you were so close. The tug at your groin became tighter and tighter until- your eyes flew open as you screamed out Pietro's name, and a few seconds later, with a couple more thrusts, Pietro followed, calling out your name.

Both your chests heaved as you both slowly came down from the high, bodies shivering as one as you felt the last bit of lust and pleasure dissolve into content. Slowly, Pietro slid out of you, a loud squelch following as he did so, and you watched as he laid beside you, a happy smile curving his lips beautifully. His smile was so contagious, you couldn't help but smile back, chuckling at how child-like he seemed, as if he'd just been told he was going to Disneyland.

"I love you." You uttered out before you could stop yourself, but before you could quickly apologise, Pietro was beaming and planting a deep kiss on your lips. Pulling back, he said, "I love you too.", and you couldn't have been more happy. Beaming back at him, you hugged him, wrapping your arms tightly around him- only to stop when you noticed the way he tensed, a wince appearing on his face. Quickly, you pulled back, and remembering the wounds on his figure, you glared a little at him. Sitting up, you carefully slid out of bed, trying to ignore the way Pietro's cum slid down your legs, and walked over to your bedroom door. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit. Next time I say rest, you rest!" You exclaimed, and then you were gone, walking off to your bathroom.

Pietro just grinned cheekily, glad to have you as his girlfriend (and hopefully, later on in life, wife).


	3. Overreacting Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protective!Father!Tony Stark overreacts (in (Y/N)'s mind) to finding his daughter with Pietro, in bed...naked...kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is (probably) the last of this story, but someone on Tumblr requested this. I hope all of you readers like this! :D

  
There was nothing better than waking up to someone you love, you quickly realised as you opened your eyes to Pietro’s peaceful expression, his own eyes closed. He looked so damn cute when he was asleep, and you couldn’t help but smile. Leaning in, you planted a soft kiss on his lips, not really wanting to wake up but not being able to resist.  
  
As you pulled away, you realised he was following you, and you chuckled as you gave him another kiss, watching as his eyelashes fluttered against the pale cheeks before his eyes opened. He smiled a tired smile and whispered, “Morning.” You grinned and whispered it back. “You look so cute when you’re sleepy.” You said, and you relished in his deep chuckle, feeling yourself shiver at the sound. God, you loved him...and his laugh...and body, oh how you loved his body.  
  
You blushed as you remembered what that body was doing last night to you, and when Pietro chuckled even more at you, you playfully glared at him, nudging him a little. “And you’re cute all the time,” He said before capturing your lips, and you giggled against his lips, kissing him back with as much heat as he was doing.  
  
As the kiss got more heated, you rolled on top of him, straddling him as he released your lips to trail soft kisses down your jawline and neck. You moaned as he sucked on the side of your neck, and slipped your hands into his hair, gripping it as he trailed downwards. His moan made you tremble, and you couldn’t wait to repeat last night’s activities.  
  
But then- “(Y/N), I’ve made those little pancakes you lik- what are you doing to my daughter?” Your father’s voice burst into the room, his tone going a tad higher than normal. You froze, eyes widening as everything seemed to just slow down. Your father...your father was in your flat, your room. Your father was in your room while you were on top of your new boyfriend, letting him suck your neck… Oh my god!You couldn’t have jumped off Pietro any fast enough, letting yourself fall off the bed before struggling to stand up. Unfortunately the covers has fell with you, causing you to become a tangled mess- and Pietro to become completely naked.  
  
This made you panic more, and practically fought with the covers. Once the covers finally separated from you, you gave yourself a moment of pride, feeling more like you’d won a battle than just tore the duvet away from yourself. An awkward cough came from the bed, and you remembered exactly why you had panicked to begin with.  
  
Eyes widening, you throw the covers back onto the bed, just barely covering Pietro’s bottom half. There was a silence that followed, a silence that was filled with nothing but awkwardness, and then- “Oh my god! My eyes! They’re burning!” You huffed, folding your arms across your chest as your father practically ran out of the room, hands covering his eyes like he’d just witnessed the most brutal murder ever.  
  
You hated your father sometimes.  
  
“Well then.” Pietro muttered, “That could’ve gone...bad.” You shoved Pietro, and he fell limply to the other half of the bed, causing his bottom half to stay on his side and his top half on your side of the bed. You rolled your eyes, and walked over to the wardrobe. You were not in the mood for an annoying boyfriend, you had a father to console… You can’t believe you just thought that. God, your father was so dramatic sometimes...as well as your boyfriend apparently, huffing as he groaned loudly, announcing how you’d ‘hurt him with that push’.  
  
“Just get changed!” You exclaimed, and quickly got dressed yourself. Once you were ready, you grabbed a shirt and trousers for Pietro and threw them at him, to which he huffed but otherwise didn’t move. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, before walking out of the room to go to the kitchen. There was where your father stood, leaning against the counter as he nursed a hot cup. His eyes were wide and he had the look of a someone who’d seen a lot of bad things...not his naked daughter on top of an equally-naked boy.  
  
You blushed as embarrassment built up inside of you. You hadn’t meant to show him that, it’s just...you hadn’t known he was even going to be there! You would’ve gotten dressed and practically forced the clothes onto Pietro. You may have even shoved the boy out before your father arrived because you knew, you knew how he acted when it concerned his daughter, especially when boys were involved.  
  
“How could you?” came the whispered voice of your father, and you started, looking up at him to see he was looking at you with a hurt look. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and sighed, walking over to the kettle and flipping it on. Tony followed you, watching your every movement, and you knew for some that would have been uncomfortable, but you were used to it. You had often done things in the past (silly things, like ate the last biscuit or made cupcakes for everyone but your father when he annoyed you) which ended up resulting in that look, so you weren’t really bothered with the intensity of the look.  
  
What you were bothered by, however, was the words he spoke, “How could you date a boy? You specifically swore off boys!” You huffed and rolled your eyes then, hands shooting straight to your hips as you turned to glare at him. “No, dad. I’ve never sworn off boys. You just took the absence of boys as an agreement I’d never date, forgetting the fact that I was at university and funnily enough, I wanted to focus on that!” He huffed, placing the cup down to cross his arms over his chest like a petulant child, and you glared harder at him.  
  
“You are such a child, dad.” You said, turning back to the kettle, and Tony huffed, looking over at you. “I just don’t want to see my daughter - _my only child_ \- on top of a man! Is that so bad?” You shook your head, and turned your head back to him, “I’m not a child anymore, dad. I’m a grown woman, who _likes_ Pietro and _he likes me_! I’m allowed to date him.”  
  
He gave you such an incredulous look, you may have thought you’d have admitted you had an extra head. “No, you’re not, (Y/N)!” You rolled your eyes at him again, and grabbed a cup to start filling it up with your desired beverage.  
  
Suddenly, you became aware of a third presence in the room by a cough, and you looked over your shoulder to see Pietro standing there, leaning against the door-frame, looking way too relaxed considering the man who was beside you. Your father noticed too, and a glare instantly shaped his features. “Oi, you! Stay away from my baby girl! She is a pure, precious little cinnamon bun and I refuse to allow you to taint her innocence with your...your speedy sinfulness!” You all paused, your father breathing harshly as he finished his exclaim off, and you took a couple of seconds to contemplate what he’d just said, before saying, “What?”  
  
That was all you could say, though Pietro ended up replying to your father with a loud laugh. Because your father isn’t angry enough. You quickly placed a hand on your father’s shoulder, freezing him before he could go after your boyfriend. He huffed, his breathing now slower, and you took a couple of deep breaths yourself before speaking, “First off, ‘pure, precious little cinnamon bun’? Please don’t say that, and if you do, say ‘cinnamon roll’!” Tony shot you a confused look, and you sighed as you explained the difference; one meant purity, the other meant a sexy butt. You watched as your father blushed before sending you a sheepish, apologetic look as he realised he’d used the latter term.  
  
You rolled your eyes and continued, “Second, ‘speedy sinfulness’?” The older man shrugged, saying “He’s fast, and he’s tainting your purity with his sinfulness!” You shook your head, pulling your hand away from his shoulder to pinch the bridge of your nose, eyes closing as you breathed.  
  
Your father was a child, you were sure of it.


End file.
